


Magma

by bonbalurinaa



Category: DSMP - Fandom, DreamSMP, Minecraft (Video Game), dnf - Fandom, dreamnotfound - Fandom, dreamnotnap - Fandom, sapnotfound - Fandom
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, DNF, Dirty Talk, Hate, M/M, Naked Cuddling, Praise Kink, Sapnotfound - Freeform, Snf, Threesome - M/M/M, Voyeurism, dnn, dreamnap, dreamnotfound, dreamnotnap, guys I wrote this in 7 and a half hours <:, mild choking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:14:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29173221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonbalurinaa/pseuds/bonbalurinaa
Summary: George and Nick visit Clay in prison together and decide he deserves punishment for leaving them alone.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 302





	Magma

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy!
> 
> I wrote this for 7 hours and 37 minutes straight :).
> 
> Please remember to comment and follow me on Twitter @bonbalurinaa.

* * *

_"Thanks," _he'd said to Sam,__

_"I’m really looking forward to seeing them."_

____For the first time since he'd been extradited from the rest of the world to the prison, Clay was going to have more than one visitor at a time. Finally, people who'd call him _Clay _, not Dream. His lips formed a sneer when he thought of his pseudonym, thought of the venom that dripped from Tommy's lips when he spoke down to him, like he didn't have the power hardly a few months ago to destroy his life right then and there. He should have taken his chance to kill Tommy and little Tubbo. He wasn't sure if he'd get that chance again, despite how collected he'd acted when being imprisoned.___ _ _ _

______His luck was running out. He didn't have much time left before everyone would just stop caring about him, stop groaning with exhaustion from the fatigue that overtook them when they'd walk within a certain radius of his prison. His home. Soon, everyone would grow used to not having Dream around, and he'd be forgotten in his cell with no one to talk to. His only conversation would be Sam, when the gold-clad boy would come to replace the clock he'd toss into the wall of lava, if only to be rewarded with some human interaction._ _ _ _ _ _

______Clay had never complained about being alone. If anything, he preferred to be solitary. He'd never had a problem with sitting alone when he was younger, or mining by himself once he'd gotten older. Being a loner was something Clay used to thrive. He'd never had to worry about anyone or whether or not he could trust them, because he was alone. He could rely on his own abilities to stay safe and as of yet, it had worked._ _ _ _ _ _

______That was until he met Nick, and soon after, George._ _ _ _ _ _

______Everything changed after that. Clay had something to fight for and better yet, people to fight for him. It was a feeling that, to this day, he still hadn't gotten used to. Knowing that if something went wrong, one of his two best friends would always be there to have his back. More often than not, it was both of them, and he'd be forever thankful for that._ _ _ _ _ _

______That was the thing he liked least about being in prison. Aside from not being able to keep himself mentally stimulated, Clay felt lonely. He often felt bored too, but the never-ending emptiness that sank through the bottom of his heart and spread throughout his stomach never ceased to remind him of just how much he needed Nick and George. They were his everything, and the feeling was mutual all around. Clay loved Nick, Nick loved Clay. Clay loved George, and George loved Clay. And to top it off, Nick and George loved each other._ _ _ _ _ _

______At least they have one another. Clay didn't want them all to suffer from his imprisonment, and whilst he knew the other two likely missed him, Clay was comforted by the knowledge that they could cuddle and cry into each other's shoulders when thinking about their locked-away lover. They weren't completely alone, not like Clay._ _ _ _ _ _

______He thought about that when he felt most sad. When the loneliness overtook him and tears began to drip down his soft, tan cheeks, Clay would look over at his clock and think about how tightly wound together George and Nick must be. He thought about whose bed they'd be in, and deduced it would probably be in Nick's, hidden in his secret base. He would imagine them, tangled against each other, George clinging to Nick's shirt whose arms would be wrapped around the slightly smaller boy's frame in an act of protection._ _ _ _ _ _

______In the couple of weeks leading up to his imprisonment (which Clay had hoped would be the slaying of Tommy), the three of them were rarely seen together. Clay knew something might happen, whether it be to him or orchestrated by him, and he didn't want his lovers to be taken down in his fall. He knew that if he asked them for help, or looked at either of them with pleading eyes, the façade would break and both boys would come forward to defend the taller one._ _ _ _ _ _

______But he couldn't._ _ _ _ _ _

______When Tommy told him to strip his armour off, he wanted nothing more than to lock eyes with Nick. He wanted nothing more than to point his axe, Nightmare, towards Tommy, tipping the sharp edge of the weapon against his chin. His back would be bare but soon enough, Nick would be up against him, their backs pressed together. Nick's sword would be pointed towards the crowd of people waiting to see if Tommy really could defeat Dream, using his stance to defend the taller one from any attackers that might come from behind._ _ _ _ _ _

______But he didn't. He _wouldn't _.___ _ _ _ _ _

________He would never put Nick in a situation like that, George too. If any of them were going to go down, Clay wanted it to be himself. He wanted George and Nick to always have each other, even if it meant sacrificing his own freedom._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Luckily, he didn't have to worry about that today._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He wasn't sure why, wasn't sure what compulsion had overtaken Sam and made him agree to let Clay have two visitors at once, specifically those whose meaning towards him was so obvious. Yes, he'd seen George and Nick separately, and yes, he'd yearned to touch them, but none of the boys could bring themselves to do something so intimate without their third. This only made Clay crave them more, knowing that the moment he'd finally be able to touch both of his lovers was finally almost here, just within arm's reach. It made his stomach ache, curling with need inside him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Sam had told him the boys were meant to be arriving about mid-day. Excitement boiled in Clay's stomach as he walked back and forth, eying the clock as the small, yellow sun ticked closer to the centre of the semi-circle._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He was so desperate to see them. He didn't know how long it had been, but when Tommy had visited him the first time, it had barely been a few days. He'd been back a lot after that, once a week and sometimes twice. A total of twenty-one times, actually, and considering three of those times had been within the same week, Clay deduced that it had been just over four months (or eighteen weeks) since his first visitor. George visited him first, maybe in the first month, and Nick came a couple of weeks after that._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Clay smiled lazily, remembering just how happy he'd been to see each of the boys when he'd seen them both. He remembered how his arms slid around George's waist, the familiarity so evident that he'd not forgotten what it felt like to clasp the pale boy's frail hips between his large palms. He remembered how his hands clambered to stretch around the expanse of Nick's shoulders, one dipping down to the small of his to bring their bodies impossibly closer in a warm embrace._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Clay remembered how they'd both cried when they had to leave him. It was difficult for him to stay strong, but he didn't want to make things worse by making the pain he felt seeing their backs turn on him visible, so he'd swallowed the lump in his throat and waved softly at each of their bodies disappearing over the sea of molten, burning, glowing rock._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He shook his head. He had to stop thinking of such depressive things, lest he be all sad and mopey when George and Nick arrived._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________When _.__ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Not if, when, and it was happening soon. So soon that Clay could barely contain himself. He wondered how long they'd stay, how long Sam would let the three of them indulge in one another's company._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Sam was really the only person he had to talk to, and he could almost say that he trusted the tall man. Not yet, but almost. Because of this, Clay found himself sharing things with Sam that he normally wouldn't, had they been in any other situation. When he'd toss his clock into the lava, Dream would stare at the lava, waiting for it to descend from the opening slowly, signalling that Sam would soon be making his way over. In the beginning, they'd hardly speak. Clay would sit across from the metal barricades that prevented him from touching the other man and make small talk, praying his conversational advances would be reciprocated._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Sam didn't at the start. He would reply with short answers, more than a couple of words if Clay was lucky. As time progressed, Sam became more talkative. He realised then when Clay was lone, he wasn't actually the worst person in the world. In fact, Clay had never even done anything to specifically target the warden, and Sam found himself being lulled into a false sense of security. Clay was dangerous. He might have said all he cared about was Tommy's discs, but Sam could guess that he just didn't want to rope George and Nick into his path of destruction. The affection he held to them was very clear to a few people in the world, and Sam was one of them._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________The more they talked, the more Sam admired Clay. It wasn't that he was a completely terrible person, just incredibly selfish. He kept Tommy around because _he _wanted to have fun, not because it contributed to the wellbeing of the young boy. He kept souvenirs of people's most traumatic experiences because _he _wanted to have something to use against them._____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________The exceptions to this were George and Nick._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Not completely, however._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Granted, Sam took note of the way Clay spoke about his two supposed 'best friends'. The regard with which he held George and Nick was so high, Sam sometimes thought Clay thought more highly of them than himself. He remembered how much of a narcissist the Floridian was, though, and those wonders were pushed aside. Still, Sam understood why Clay was so desperate to see George and Nick, purely because of the admiration that clouded his dark green, hazel-centric orbs when he spoke about them. So, he decided to let them both visit at once._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________George and Nick supplied Clay with a constant source of happiness. He loved them both more than life itself, and to lose them would be devastating on a level more detrimental than personal, so he strived to keep them alive both for his own benefit, but also because he cared about their wellbeing. It was why he'd not put up a fight at the Disc Confrontation. He didn't want them to be imprisoned too. As long as they had each other, Clay could live with being in prison. Being alone._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________He shook his head again._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______________Stop _, he told himself. He needed to stop being such a downer.__ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________This trance of melancholy was broken by the sound of lava descending at the same time the metal barricade between him and the lava pool shot up. He pushed himself from the green couch Sam had decided to install in his cell a couple of weeks ago and rose to his feet. He glanced at the leather behind him, a fond look of reminisce on his face before he headed over to the metal blocks. He leaned down on the cool steel, chin slotted into his palm connected to the elbow that held him up against the metal. He gazed over the empty space, having to squint to see George and Nick stepping up onto the bridge._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________His heart increased faster than it had for a while. There wasn't a lot that got his blood pumping in such a small cell, yet seeing George and Nick heading over to him was enough to surge adrenaline through his veins._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________The sound of his pulse thumped in his ears and he blinked slowly. This was it. It was finally happening. He was about to see both of his lovers, together, for the first time in about three months since he saw the last. His stomach bubbled with extreme excitement, so hot he was sure it spread up into his chest, melting around his thudding heart._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________And best of all, George and Nick were staring back at him. George's arm looped lazily around Nick's waist, keeping their hips flush together, like he didn't want the other to fall off into the flowing, burning rock beneath them._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________Despite the imminent danger of being burnt to a crisp, neither boy looked away, too distracted by the sight of what felt like their long-lost boyfriend._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________Finally, after the gruelling minute it took for the bridge to transport George and Nick across, they were there, stepping from the podium down to the harsh obsidian Clay had been living on for a third of a year._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________Clay managed to look away from them for a second, glancing behind them so he could see Sam, to which both George and Nick turned around as well._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________Sam offered the three a thumbs up before pulling a lever. The lava began to descend against once it was half way down, the blockade that separated them dropped into the ground. The clang was so loud and it grabbed George and Nick’s attention sharply. After lingering on the ground for a second they looked up at Clay._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________With a deep breath, Clay opened his arms as wide as he could with the shackles that bound them together after sliding his mask to the side (he always wore it in Sam’s presence; his face was reserved for George and Nick). This meant his arms separated at shoulder length._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________That didn’t matter to the other boys as they came crashing forward into Clay’s chest, a head on each of his pecks. He cursed the fact that he couldn’t wrap himself around them because of the chains, but they made up for it by winding their arms around him and pulling him in close. Tears pricked at Clay’s eyes and he sunk his face into the space between each of their heads so he got a faceful of both of their hair._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________They all pulled back after three or four minutes, faces red and blotchy and streaky from tears. For once, Clay let himself cry, so unbelievably that he got to be with the again after such a long time, even if only temporarily._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________“I missed you both so much.” Clay eventually croaks out, a broken smile across his scarred face._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________George doesn’t speak, too overwhelmed by the emotions of seeing Clay alongside Nick to form any coherent words so he stays quiet, pulling away before either of them. The action made Clay's brows flutter in confusion, watching as the British one took a few steps away.________________

________________“We missed you.” Nick says for him, coming forward to hug him again. George does too, a smile forming on his dry lips. He flicks his tongue over his mouth to moisten it, taking a deep breath._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________They pull away again. George pulls out a key, eyes flitting about every part of Clay's face except his eyes.. “Sam gave us this. . . for your hands.” He says softly, gesturing for Clay to give him his wrists. He does, and George is gentle with slotting the key into the padlock that hung in the middle of the shackles, weighing him down. It dropped off to the ground and George leaned down to pick it up. The shackles remained on Clay’s wrists, but at least he could move his arms freely now. He could touch George. He could touch Nick. There was no restriction._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________After about twenty minutes, the boys had made themselves comfortable on the dark leather couch, Clay in the middle, between his best friends. Their faces had cleared up from crying and they were mostly contained, slipping into casual conversation. Nick's legs splayed out over the top of Clay's thighs, the latter's hands resting over his ankles, whilst George had one leg crossed over the other up against the side of the couch, body leaned away from the other two.________________

________________George had asked about Clay’s day, but Clay quickly deflected the question since he didn’t want to dampen the mood with how the most exciting thing he’d done all week was complete a book for Tommy._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________“Oh, it’s been fine. . . but tell me about your day, George. Your week, even.” He pressed._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________Off to his left, Nick sat with his legs crossed beneath him. He wore a light grey t-shirt and tapered black sweats. In his hand was Clay’s. He played with his fingers mindlessly, letting George have his time to talk. To be fair, George didn’t speak to anyone very much since Clay’s imprisonment. The only person he spoke to was Nick and sometimes Bad, but those conversations had lessened since the whole ‘Egg’ thing. Now, George rarely left the surrounding area of Nick’s base. Sometimes he’d wander back to his house which he’d never fixed from when Tommy burnt it. It hurt him too much to know that it was because of his property that yet another battle had been created. Hated knowing that if not for his stupid mushroom house, Clay might not be in prison. Clay might not have been pushed to force Tubbo to exile Tommy._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________It hurt too much. He didn’t want to think about it, so he didn’t. He kept his eyes trained on Clay as he spoke about his doings of the week._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

He babbled on for minutes. Nick and Clay sat quietly, listening to the eldest of the three rant, soft smiles lacing their faces.

“-ugh, and you should hear Tommy, Clay." George continued, eyes trailed on his lap. _’I beat Dream’ _this,__ _’I’m the best’_ ____that. Ugh! I just want to punch his___ stupid little _ _ _ _ _-” he spat venomously, his face heating up as anger shot through his veins. “No one gets to talk about you like that. It makes me so mad. . . the way some of them talk about you.” He huffed.______

______Clearly this was something he’d been pent up about for a while. Sure, he’d spoken to Nick about it, but sometimes it was too much for both of them to talk about Clay, let alone how much everyone hated him. It hurt them both to hear the person they loved most in the world be spoken so badly about, and complaining to one another only served to make them angrier, which then descended into missing Clay for hours on end._ _ _ _ _ _

______More than anything, it hurt George because some of the things people said, he agreed with._ _ _ _ _ _

______So yeah, they rarely spoke about this sort of thing._ _ _ _ _ _

______There’s a pause. A long one._ _ _ _ _ _

______“You know,” George starts suddenly, “If I could, I’d kill them just so we could all be together.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Nick’s body stiffens and Clay’s head snaps towards the shortest of the three. “What?” Nick breathes. Worry is etched on his face, the type that George recognises as familiar. Nick has looked at him this way before.______

______George doesn’t respond._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Who?” Clay asks._ _ _ _ _ _

______“All of them. I just. . . we miss you so much.” George sighs, leaning back into the couch with his hands over his flushed face. He takes his hands away, apprehension scribbled all over his soft features. His lips were pursed pointedly, holding back expressions. He has to look away for a second before he goes on._ _ _ _ _ _

______"And you know what else? It’s_____ your _ _ _ _ _ _ _fault.” He scowls.________

_Oh no, _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Nick thought. Now, this was something they had spoken about.__________

__________Although they missed Clay terribly, neither boy could push down the rage they felt towards him. If Clay wasn’t so power hungry, so eager to prove his power, this could have been avoided. If he hadn’t cared so much about what everyone else thought of him, maybe he wouldn’t be in prison. Now, their final puzzle piece was missing, all because Clay couldn’t stand the thought of someone underestimating him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Clay swallowed. He didn’t hear that tone in George’s voice very often._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_He didn’t hear him at all very often anymore._

____________“What- uh, what do you mean?” He asks lightly, trying not to sound offended already._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Nick’s fingers left Clay’s, and Clay knew he was in trouble. It was one thing to have George angry at him, it was another to have___________ both _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _of them angry at him.____________

____________“What do I mean?” George laughed, a trickle of sadism laced through his tone. “You___________ left ___________us, Clay. All alone, ostracised from the rest of the world all because___________ you _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _wanted to make sure no one underestimated how big your dick is, right? ‘Oh, don’t mess with the almighty Dream! He’s so powerful! He can kill you with a single hit, he’s basically a god, he doesn’t even bleed, he’s a______________ nightmare _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _’” George paused, seething.______________

______________"Fucking ridiculous. Like, fuck, I love you_____________ so _______________much, Clay, but you fucking-” George had to stop again, aware he was working himself up. “-you left us. You_______________ left _________________us. Why would you leave us? Why would you want to leave us?” George felt himself saddening and he pushed the feelings down quickly, replacing them with anger. He didn’t want to cry, he needed Clay to know how angry he’d made him.__________________

__________________“Do you care more about your fucking ego than you do us? Is that it? You’d rather rot away in a cell without us, just as long as everyone knows how powerful you are? Well, guess what,_________________ Dream _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _,” he spat, the name rolling off his tongue like a slur. It made Clay shiver, pupils dilated, “you’re not very fucking powerful now, are you? All alone in here, by yourself, without us.” George growled. “You left us for a fucking cell.”____________________

____________________Clay’s eyes were wide in shock. Sure, he knew they were upset that they couldn’t be together properly, but fuck, he didn’t realise how much of it was____________________ his fault _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _. Guilt rose in his throat. He couldn’t look away.______________________

______________________Giving George a break, Nick actually spoke up. He wasn’t very good at expressing his feelings, especially not angry ones, but George needed his support and to be honest, Clay deserved it._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Clearing his throat, Nick leaned back against the arm of the couch so he was facing Clay more directly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Yeah, I have to agree, Clay. You did sort of. . . completely leave us.” Nick said, feeling the tension in the room weighing on his shoulders like nothing he’d ever felt before. It was so heavy. George’s anger radiated from him in waves.

George wanted to speak, wanted to scream about how Clay had left them because of his own selfishness.

He didn’t, though. Nick deserved a chance to vent just as much as he did.

“You have no idea how hard it is, Clay. Everyone hates you. _Everyone _.” Nick sighed, arms crossing defensively over his chest. “The man we love is hated by everyone around us, the man who left us. . . for a fucking cell.” He reiterated. Indignation rattled inside of him and after only a moment of talking, the rage George felt beforehand began to trickle into Nick, the match lighting inside of him like it was dipped in gasoline.__

__“Can you imagine that?” He laughed half heartedly, pushing himself up to drift towards the centre of the barren room. “Two people who love you more than life itself, more than_ anything _ _ _, who would have fought for you against the entire world.” He shook his head, kicking the chest in the corner full of Clay’s books. He didn’t break it, but the noise bounded off the obsidian walls, making Clay flinch. “You left that. You left us, all to prove how much better you were than everyone. To prove that, ‘yeah, I don’t mind being by myself, locked away from everyone. It’s not like my actions affect anyone else, because___ I don’t fucking think about anyone else. _ _ _ _ _” Nick hissed. Clay opened his mouth to protest, but before he could, George’s fingers were between his lips and down his throat.______

______Well._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Don’t interrupt him.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Nick continued. “Not even us. Not George. Not me. No one. Clearly you don’t understand how selfish you’ve been, or else you wouldn’t be trying to_____ argue _____with me right now. If you really felt bad, you’d have already apologised to George, to us. You’d be on your knees, but no, you’re sitting there, fingers stuck down your throat because you tried to _argue _with me.” Nick scoffed, taking a few long strides towards Clay.________

________"There’s no point, is there? No way we can get through your thick skull-” Nick shoved his index finger against Clay’s forehead, so harsh it would likely leave a mark, and said, “that this is your fault. It’s not ours. It’s not Tommy’s, not Tubbo’s, not even Schlatt’s. This is all of your fault,_______ Dream _ _ _ _ _ _ _." Clay wanted to throw up. "We'd rather_______ die _________than stay away from you forever.”__________

__________Tears pricked at Nick’s eyes. He ignored them._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“How does that make you feel? Knowing how you’ve made us feel. It hurts so much, we want to_________ die, ___________Clay. The pain. . . being away from you- it’s deadly.” Nick said lowly, his finger releasing the pressure from Clay’s head to travel down and cup his cheek.____________

____________“And you did this to us.” George murmurs, moving his digits around in Clay’s mouth. He mustered up his strength, fatigue overtaking him with each movement he made, and pushed himself up onto Clay’s lap. He nestled comfortably against the slenderness of his jumpsuit-covered legs, fingers leaving his mouth. He wrapped his arms around Clay’s neck and shook his head. At the same time, Nick’s hands ran themselves up and down George’s sides before settling on the space where his shoulders met his neck._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Tutting softly, George finally leaned forward and connected their lips in a soft kiss. Sadness overwhelmed George. He was kissing his boyfriend for the first time in months. It wasn’t fair, he shouldn’t have to wait to kiss Clay. He shouldn’t have to feel guilty each time he and Nick made out because Clay wasn’t there. They shouldn’t have to deal with this.

The anger made a return, only serving to fire him up more.

George slammed his hands against Clay’s chest, making him gasp, and sighed annoyedly. “For fuck’s sake.” He muttered.

They stayed like that for a while, George’s eyes shut whilst Nick gently rubbed his shoulders. They were all so tense, just wanting to be with each other whilst not wanting to give in at the same time.

“I’m sorry.”

George and Nick’s heads seemed to move in sync, gazes snapping up to glare holes through Clay’s skull, whose eyes widened even more than before.

“Are you serious? I _apologise _and that’s the look you give me?” He sneered. Sure, he felt terrible, but the narcissist inside him told him it wasn’t his fault. It was survival. He’d just been looking after himself.__

__George scoffed, mouth dropped open. “Are we serious?” He repeated. Clay nodded. “Are _you _fucking serious Clay? Months of abandonment, of being without you, and all you can say is fucking sorry?!” He shoved himself off of Clay’s lap and back into Nick’s embrace, whose grip dropped low to his hips.___ _

____Okay, maybe that wasn’t the right move. In retrospect, Clay could have said something better than that. But, still, he couldn’t take it back now._ _ _ _

____“You’re just dramatic, both of you.” He pushed himself from the couch and sauntered over to his bed where he laid down, facing away from them. It pained him to be such an asshole, and it was times like this where Clay’s never ending need to prove himself better than everyone, to prove he could withstand anything, came into play and damaged relationships._ _ _ _

____He knew they wouldn’t leave, though. That was his only saving grace, so he stayed put._ _ _ _

____Silence filled the heavy room, the only sounds audible being the humming of the leather couch as George and Nick sat down._ _ _ _

____They looked at each other with pained expressions. George wanted to cry, so did Nick. The taller one brought a hand up to thread his fingers through the other’s hair in a comforting manner, and George shut his eyes, leaning into the touch. The exhaustion that overtook them from being inside the prison was enough to tire anyone out. It was difficult for either of them to put much effort into anything, but adrenaline could do wonders._ _ _ _

____George reciprocated by splaying his hand across Nick’s thigh, squeezing._ _ _ _

____Nick’s hand meandered down against the back of George’s neck, eventually finding its way to the front of his throat. He pressed the pad of his thumb against his adam’s apple softly, earning a groan from George. His neck had always been sensitive, that was found out very early on in their relationship. As were his thighs; something he and Nick had in common, so when George’s nails began to dig through the fabric of his pants and into the skin of his legs, the breaths that left his lips were akin to that of whimpers._ _ _ _

____A devious smile graced George’s face. He was still angry, but being here with Nick, knowing they had the chance to seriously piss off Clay. . . it was enough for him to push it aside momentarily. The other man hadn’t had a chance to touch them in months, yet there he was, laying in his bed sulking like a child whose candy had been taken from his bag of treats. It was pathetic._ _ _ _

____George linked his hands around Nick’s neck and hoisted himself up onto his lap, legs kneeling on either side of him and clad tightly against the outer edge of his thighs. They both sighed heavily, eyes heavy with debility and want._ _ _ _

Nick tipped his head against George’s, taking the time to prepare himself to deal with Clay’s complaints once he realised what was happening. He ran his hands underneath George’s shirts, fingers ghosting over the shallow crevices that separated his ribs. He took note of a couple of familiar bumps, recognising them as the few freckles that littered George’s mainly blemishless body.

“Nick. . .” George whispered. Nick shook his head, covering George’s mouth with his own in a silent, loving kiss. There was nothing either of them wanted more than to touch Clay, but there was also nothing their prisoner deserved less than the touches of his lovers.

Already growing against the tightness of his sweatpants, Nick ground up against the softness of George’s behind, which was settled comfortably in his lap. George’s head dropped low against Nick’s shoulder, giving the barely taller one a chance to suck a mark into the other’s neck.

Teeth dug into his skin and George couldn’t hold back the sweet moan that flowed freely from his neck, breath heated against Nick’s shoulder. Nick grinned cockily against his throat and moved next to the fresh mark, working quickly to leave another one next to it. And another. And another.

“Fuck.” George sighed breathlessly, hips beginning to rock down against Nick’s crotch.

The broad boy groaned and tipped his head back against the couch, eyes fluttering shut as George’s fingers slid down his body. George lifted his body a little so he could shuffle back, making space for himself. His hand skimmed further along Nick’s abdomen until it reached the growing bulge in his pants, palming him immediately. His pressure was faint, lips gliding over the angle of Nick’s jaw. He murmured something to Nick, something Clay’s straining ears couldn’t quite make out.

Clay had tried not to listen. He’d tried to ignore the heat that pooled in the bottom of his stomach, accompanied by the anger he felt for not only being blamed for what had happened, but also for being left out from his boyfriend’s fun. He didn’t say anything, obviously. He tried to fight it, much to his dismay. His cock only hardened against the harshness of his underwear, twitching at the noises his boyfriends let slip through.

More shuffling, and Clay couldn’t see it but George had dropped down to the ground, kneeling between Nick’s open legs. He tugged his pants down needily, practically diving forward to mouth Nick through his briefs.

“Oh, fuck-” Nick groaned, fingers threading through George’s hair without applying any pressure. He somehow managed to keep his eyes open, gaze trained on the beautiful boy between his legs.

George’s palms flattened against the pale expanse of Nick’s thighs, using the grip to keep him steady as he took the waistband of Nick’s dark underwear between his teeth. He tapped his legs softly, indicating he should lift his hips. He did, and George took his time sliding the item of clothing down his legs, only stopping once he was bent almost completely forward. Nick’s underwear was around his ankles and George’s ass was in the air for just a moment before he sat up again.

Nick may as well have been drooling, and Clay had definitely turned around.

“God. . .” Clay muttered, mostly to himself, hand unzipping his jumpsuit down to his waist so he could slip his hand underneath his boxers and wrap his fingers around his aching length.

George and Nick ignored him, tending to each other. George’s mouth made quick work of engulfing Nick, his movements starting off slow and deliberate. The weight of a cock against his tongue was one George would never get used to. No matter if it was Nick’s or Clay’s, George loved it. He loved feeling his partner spasm beneath him in response to his mannerisms, like how Nick would gasp and his thighs would twitch when George ran his tongue over his slit, pressing into it. He loved how Nick’s hips would shake vaguely under the push of George’s hand, struggling not to over power the sim boy and thrust helplessly into his warm throat.

Nick was at that stage now, face flush with want, hips trembling under the weight George applied to his thighs, keeping him still..

“Fuck, you look so good, Georgie.” Nick couldn’t help himself from rambling, brushing his fingers through George’s soft hair. “Wrapped around my cock, it’s like you’re made for it, Jesus.” He breathed out in disbelief, eyes wide. “So beautiful, just for me. Just for me.”

Clay ground his teeth together, watching as one of George’s hands abandoned Nick’s thigh to instead slip into his underwear and grip himself. Clay wanted to grab him, to tell him not to touch himself because he hadn’t been told by either of them that he was allowed. He wanted to force George against the wall, gripping him by his neck and lifting him so high that he can’t breathe, then drop him down, only to join their lips together without giving George a chance to intake any oxygen.

Not only that, he wanted to remind Nick that he was wrong. George wasn’t his, he was _theirs _. He knew he’d said it just to spite Clay, but that didn’t calm the jealousy that stirred in his stomach.__

__Something that irritated Clay more than anything was the fact that George was being submissive. It was often the two got to see George in such a vulnerable state, and Clay found it incredible unfortunate that this was the time in which George had fallen into it. This wasn't fair. Clay wanted nothing more than to participate._ _

__Maybe they’d let him?_ _

________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

It turned out, they wouldn't let him. Clay had advanced, standing beside George to thread his fingers through his hair. He'd not been met with positivity, and his mistake was made impossibly clear in the aftermath.

He was sitting next to his lovers on the couch, cock straining painfully against the smoothness of his stomach. To his right laid George and Nick, all over each other. Nick was on his back, George knelt between his legs. His hands were planted either side of Nick’s body, and Nick’s arms were looped around his neck, their lips sewn together in a tight kiss as they ground against each other.

It was killing Clay to be left all alone. He’d been promised some sort of contact towards the end of whatever was happening, but if he tried to join in without being told he could or if he touched himself, that promise would disappear and both George and Nick would ensure they never touched Clay again up until they saw him again which could be months.

Both Nick and George had stripped themselves of their clothing, both completely bare aside from the short socks wrapped around George’s feet. Clay smiled when he saw them. He’d always wear socks, no matter what they were doing.

Because of this lack of clothing, it wasn’t long until Nick’s legs were flattening beneath George, allowing the shorter one to straddle and position himself over the length of Nick’s cock. He gripped him gently, directing him until he felt the tip of him press into the rim of his ass.

“Ahh, fuck.” George gasped back arching. He sat up straight, preparing for the impact as he began lowering himself down on Nick’s girth.

Guilt bloomed in both George and Nick's chest, longing for their lover to join in whilst also not wanting to allow him the satisfaction when really, he hadn't earned it. They missed him, but he'd left them alone.

The burn was at the forefront of George's mind for the first few seconds, reminding him of why he should have brought lube. Nick went slow, though, not wanting to make the experience any more tense for George than having a cock up his ass already was.

Eventually, George sunk down to the hilt. Clay couldn’t keep his eyes off their point of connection, precum leaking onto his abdomen at the sight. He swallowed and blinked slowly, teeth digging into his bottom lip to prevent himself from saying anything. His gaze burned into George's back, whose head thumped from feeling as though he was doing something wrong.

Soon, George began to bounce, hands tightly gripping Nick’s broad shoulders to keep himself steady. His movements are deliberate and thought out, his hips rolling and circling in the ways he knows feel best. These actions string moans and groans from Nick’s mouth, similar ones falling from his own. Nick ran a flat hand along the middle of George’s chest, brushing over his nipples before he caught one between his finger and thumb, squeezing roughly. His other hand was on George’s right hip towards his ass cheek, keeping it spread to ensure Clay’s view was only more mouth-watering.

“Nick, fuck- god.” Clay groans, tilting his head to get a better look as Nick’s shaft disappeared in and out of George, vision becoming blurry once Nick began to speed up. This broke George’s moans, turning him into more of a whining, needy mess than he already was.

“Oh god, Nick- Nick, yes, feels so good.” He whimpered, jaw slack with pleasure. “Harder, fuck me harder, please.” His words came out in a whine, his tone blanketing Nick in a shiver that racked through his tired body like a tsunami.

“Yeah, feels good, George? Shit, you’re so tight.” Nick muttered under a groan, shifting to sit up a bit so he could better thrust his hips into George’s all-encompassing heat.

The angle change made it so Nick was grazing George’s prostate, forcing his back to arch even further than it had. His hips shifted on top of Nick and that was all it took for the tip of his cock to slam against George’s prostate with every thrust forward. Wrecked cries and sobs of pleasure fell from his red, slick lips and he tossed his head back in pleasure, wishing he had a shoulder to lean on.

He imagined they were at Nick's base, just the three of them, hidden away from the rest of society. He was always able to make as much noise as he could whilst they were there; they all could. Some of the filthy things each of the taller boys would whisper to him were ingrained in his mind forever, always there to ensure he had something to look back on to remember a time where Clay wasn't locked away from them.

“Wish you could see him from where— fuck— I am, Clay.” Nick’s voice is full of need as he chased his orgasm, hips speeding up to hammer into George’s prostate. “He looks so good, so destroyed. I bet you wish you could be the one destroying him.” He taunted, so casually as if he wasn’t on the verge of orgasming.

"Fuck, Clay, yes, more.” George writhed helplessly on top of Nick’s cock, and neither boy can quite believe how he wants more. Nick’s pace and strength was already relentless, and it was at that point Clay decides he can’t take it anymore.

He pushed himself up from his sitting position beside them and shuffled onto his knees, moving in behind George to press himself to his back and run a hand up his neck. Finally, he was touching him, and George was in too many pieces to resist. Plus, there was nothing he found hotter than watching how easily George fell apart under Clay’s touch, and he wasn’t going to be the one to put a stop to it.

Clay presses his lips just beneath George’s ear, his other hand sliding down to grip the base of his member. “More?” He whispered. George didn’t resist. He nodded, head resting against Clay’s shoulder heavily.

“God, you really are such a slut.” Dream purred against his skin. Nick slowed his hips, but didn’t stop them. He put all his energy into the force of thrusts, ensuring that George’s prostate was rammed with each harsh buck up into him.

George cried out with each of these thrusts, doing his best to listen to Clay, who began stroking his cock mindlessly. George's mind was flooded with memories, the feeling of familiarity that soared through him at Clay's words only serving to make him more breathless.

“Yes, please- need to-. . .” George cut himself off with a loud moan, Clay’s thumb flicking over the tip of his length. “Fuck! Ah, Clay, please- need you, need you to help me.” He whined whorishly, body so hot he was sure magma was flowing through his veins.

Clay chuckled darkly. “Barely an hour ago you were yelling at me, now you want me to help you, hm?” He teased, thumbing George’s slit again at the same time Nick pinched his nipple between his finger and thumb.

“Mmh, yes, please, please, fuck, need to come so bad- Nick, Clay. . .” He prattled on, beginning to fuck himself down onto Nick’s cock.

“Oh, fuck-” Nick groaned, shaking his head, “Clay’s right. You’re a slut, George, you’re _our _slut, hear me?”__

__Clay’s hand tightened around George’s throat, squeezing each side._ _

__“Who do you belong to, George?” Clay’s words vibrated against the back of George’s neck, whose whole body shook in response._ _

__“You! Please, I be-fuck- I belong to both of you, please, please, let me come, let me come.” He pleaded helplessly, body rocking itself against Nick’s cock._ _

__Nick decided to show George some mercy, redirecting both of his hands to George’s hips so he could lift him up with each thrust, slamming him down to ensure he went as deep as possible. George almost screamed, his voice cracking as his mouth tipped open in a silent cry of pleasure. Nick’s pace was unmatchable, shaking George’s body like nothing he’d felt before._ _

__Clay groaned against his neck, squeezing around his windpipe tighter than he had been before. He gave George’s cock a few more tugs, leaving it in the end so he could begin to jerk himself off. He wanted George to come untouched, wanted him to unravel on top of Nick’s cock whilst Clay strangled him from behind._ _

__“Look at you, doing so good.” Clay praised in a quiet moan, tongue curling against the outer shell of George’s ear. “So good for us, so beautiful. Fuck, you’re so gorgeous, George. I’ve missed you so much.”_ _

__Nick moaned loudly as he reached his climax, fingers pressing so hard into George’s hips they were likely to leave bruises, holding him down impossible against his body to pump him full of cum. Nick was deeper than he ever had been before; he was sure of it. George’s body stiffened as the heat inside him expanded, the feeling of Nick’s cum being the final thing he needed before his own orgasm was washing over him in a wave of moans and convulsions._ _

__His body shook against Clay, who was steadily working himself through his climax as well, head high in the clouds as the gorgeous brunet against him came all over the front of himself._ _

__“Oh, fuck, yes. So good, George, feels so good against me. So perfect.” Clay murmured against the back of his neck, hand still clamped around his throat as he thrust into his fist, painting the small of George’s back with warm streaks of cum. His chest heaved, as did George’s, as did Nick’s._ _

Exhaustion quickly began to overtake the three boys, their lustful, cloudy minds coming down from their highs. They were all extremely tired, and Clay couldn’t think of anything better than falling asleep in a tangle of sheets and legs with his lovers.

George leaned against Clay, cum covering not only his back, his front, but his insides too. He felt full. He felt loved, sandwiched between the two people who meant the most to him.

It wasn’t long before Clay and Nick were wiping George down with the few tissues Clay was given each day, eager to lay down without wanting the smallest of the three to remain covered in cum for the rest of their time together.

Clay’s bed wasn’t big enough for all three of them, so he stripped the sheets from it and made a makeshift bed whilst the other two waited tiredly on the couch. Once it was finished, with his blanket curled at the bottom, Clay laid down, pulled the blanket up, and beckoned his lovers over. They slid under the covers on either side of him, each tucking into his chest, legs slung over his.

A smile dared to grace Clay’s lips. He looked down at Nick, then at George, only able to see the top of their heads. Eventually, Clay's neck gave in, dropping back against his pillow, heart swelling against his chest.

God, he’d missed them so much.


End file.
